The footsteps of Holy Knight Connor echoed in the empty corridor.
He stopped before Fabian's door and reported in a low voice.
"Sir, I have investigated using the Holy Words."
"That girl, Lina... her soul is cleaner than fresh snow."
"There is no trace of filth."
Silence came from within the room.
After a long while, Fabian's voice, tinged with satisfaction, drifted out.
"Very good. You may leave."
Connor bowed and departed.
Inside, Fabian leaned his back against the rough wooden door and let out a long sigh of relief.
Fabian stood up, walked to the window, and pushed it open.
The night wind poured in, and moonlight spilled across his gentle face.
He gazed at the moon in the sky, the corners of his mouth uncontrollably turning up, eventually forming a silent smile.
Purity.
'What a beautiful word.'
'I've found an uncarved soul, a perfect blank slate.'
The child's eyes, her timidness, the innocence she revealed in unguarded moments—they all replayed in his mind now.
